


The Fathers Blessing

by WizenedBeanie



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Dead Wilbur Soot, Fluff, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not sure how tags work, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo - Freeform, Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Horns, Wilbur Soot - Freeform, idk what I'm doing but you should trust me anyway, it is slightly more hurt than comfor but I promise there is comfort it's just a little bittersweet, just trust me, this is my first fic uploaded to ao3 and of course its mcyt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizenedBeanie/pseuds/WizenedBeanie
Summary: Fundy's paternal situation is... complicated, and Dream isn't exactly on glowing terms with any of them. Neither him nor Fundy were planning on being especially formal or traditional with the whole thing but...Well asking for the father's blessing is just polite, and they could probably use a sign of goodwill anyway.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 298





	1. Tubbo

Being the president sucked. 

Tubbo had been mulling this over in his head for a while. He’d really been thinking about the pros and cons of running a country gone rogue in an smp. Looking over the crinkled and neglected mountains of paperwork, his messy office, the craters in his nation visible just outside his periphery; yeah no being president was just not incredibly fun. Top it all off with political tensions still held as tight as a bowstring combined with his inheritance of a country in literal and metaphorical shambles and you had yourself a recipe for major stress.

Tubbo sighed and pulled the wooden chair out from his desk, the only sound in the empty room being its scratching against the floorboards. He had to at least try and draft a new decree, maybe he’d even get to a refined treaty with Dream if he just managed to finish this one last point. He sat there unmoving for a moment, staring at the paper in front of him and grimacing like it had personally offended him. He gingerly picked up a fountain pen like it would bite him if he was too casual, and put it to the paper. Nothing came out.

He let the pen fall out of his hand and slumped forward against the desk, groaning in frustration and bringing up his hands to pull at the hair around his horns. He lifted his head an inch off the desk but still, nothing came to him. As usual, the words in front of him blurred together and seemed to rearrange at random, dancing off and on the page. He tried squinting his eyes to refocus the words on the page or at least try to decipher what he’d already written, before sighing and letting the letters continue their dance. He glared at the paper and sat back up again. Not wanting to look at the offending document, he got up out of his chair and looked around the room to assess the mess. With Dream as his witness, he would get stuff done today even if it was something as simple as cleaning his office.

As soon as he got up to look around he groaned again. It really was just replacing one problem with another. All around his office were papers, knick-knacks, and things that would all need rearranging and organizing. It was all so much. He’d need to move that stack of paper over there, that sword to a display frame, those bricks to a building site, Dream would need to be escorted out of his office, he still needed to talk to Tommy about- wait. 

Tubbo screamed louder and shriller than he was strictly comfortable admitting and fell back against his desk. Papers scattered all around the room and were it not for the sharp terror that tore through him at that moment, he would’ve audibly cringed at the extra cleaning work. As it was, he was clutching his shirt over his heart and backing up about as far away from the intruder as he possibly could without actually jumping out the window. Dream did not react at all. He just stood there, leaning against the wall and examining his netherite axe with the same casualness one might examine a broken nail. If he did react at all it was very difficult to see under his green bandages, and as usual, his white glowing eyes under his hood betrayed nothing. The white smiley face emblem on his chest seemed extra mocking with Tubbo still recovering from the near panic attack he’d just had. 

After a second, Tubbo decided it was time he pretended he'd regained his composure, and he stood up straight again, dusting off his white button-up and fixing his hair to hide his horns. Dream looked up and saluted Tubbo with two fingers.

“Hey Tubbo,” Dream said, remaining where he stood but regarding Tubbo a bit more closely. Tubbo cleared his throat and forced a less than natural smile on his face, physically feeling his smile faltering but not being quite prepared to care that much.

“Yes. Hi. Hello, Dream,” he said, semi-confident in the lack of cracking his voice did. Dream nodded but did not respond, simply twirling his axe around his wrist with a nonchalance one did not typically possess in the presence of so many fragile things. Tubbo coughed into his fist and continued, “Uh, Dream, what brings you here on this fine,” he checked the sun outside, “Afternoon?” Dream paused the twirling of his axe and holstered it, standing up to his full height of way-taller-than-Tubbo and crossing his arms.

“You’re one of Fundy’s legal guardians right?” he asked. Tubbo paused, furrowed his brow, and hesitantly nodded. Dream nodded back and turned his head to look at the rest of the office, considering every out of place item with an air of judgement that seemed apparent even without his expression. The silence that stretched between them was thicker than molasses but Dream seemed utterly unconcerned.

Tubbo cleared his throat again, he seemed to be doing that a lot in this conversation, and probed, “Why uh… why exactly do you ask Dream?” Dream’s head swiveled back towards Tubbo and the man in question fought back a flinch. Dream paused for a moment, considering his words and making the tense silence even worse.

“Well I’m getting married to Fundy,” he said finally, “and I want the blessing of his guardians. And y’know, normally I wouldn’t care about tradition and Fundy doesn’t either but well,” he shrugged, “I figured this… gesture of goodwill would be a good move. Y’know considering that we’re technically enemies.” Tubbo took a second to process that while Dream continued to survey the office with his air of critique. Okay. That was way better than the mile-long list of other reasons why Dream would be here in his office, and it was a gesture of good will! Tubbo still held a mountain of tension in his shoulders but at least this wasn’t a war proposition. Tubbo considered taking a step forward to shake Dream’s hand, y’know the kind of thing a legal guardian would do when giving their to-be nephew-in-law their blessing but decided against it. Instead, he looked up, made eye-contact (?) with Dream, and gave a tentative smile with as much warmth as he could muster. 

“Well Mr. Wastaken,” he said, voice still cracking but sounding a bit more genuine, “Welcome to the family I guess. You’ve got my blessing.” Dream paused, looked back to Tubbo, and Tubbo was sure he saw the bandages around his face move in a smile. Tubbo returned it.

Dream moved over to the door of Tubbo's office (that he just now realized was cracked open) and spoke over his shoulder as he made his way out, “Thanks Tubbo, we both really appreciate it. Now, you wouldn’t happen to know where Philza is by any chance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course my first fic ever uploaded to ao3 is of block men. Of course it is. Anyway!! Lemme know if u like it!!


	2. Philza

Helping rebuild New L’Manburg was… Difficult to say the least. 

It wasn’t bad work, no not at all. It was calming and Phil enjoyed the mindless repetition that it offered, but it was by no means easy. For the past few weeks, all he did was build, watch his kids, repair, repeat. Occasionally he’d been roped into a conversation with his kids, but for the most part, all he did was build and watch. They were all accomplishing their own things and he was… mostly proud of them.

He hoisted a mass of oak planks over his shoulder and dropped them down near the road he’d gotten to fixing with a huff. There was a path that snaked around the pillars of the country that still needed rerouting and patching, along with all the other roads that still needed work. He looked at the pile, wiped the sweat off his brow, and started unpacking his repair tools. He began blindly grabbing around for a pick and… he’d forgotten his axe. Sighing, he stood back up and figured he could probably fly back to his house. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his… he didn’t have wings here yet. Phil took a second, gathered his thoughts, and breathed out all his frustration, letting his shoulders fall and putting his hands back in his coat pockets. He raised Tommy for fuck’s sake, lack of wings and a forgotten axe was not going to get to him. Once he’d gotten himself back into a chilled-out zen state, he started the trek back to his house. He’d take the scenic route, he had time.

Even with all the damages that still needed patching, Tubbo’s little country really was beautiful. The railings that surrounded the raised area looked over hills and mountains and fields and carefully constructed buildings, some of which he helped build, and it was all just lovely. The rustic feeling of the log houses he’d helped build was a nice touch and an excellent upgrade from the slightly manic and disjointed vibe that Manburg had embodied previously. He walked leisurely, just enjoying the sights and taking in all his hard work to the tune of his boots echoing off the wood and into the water filled crater below. A cloud passed over and the knowledge that it would never drop rain soured his mood slightly, but only slightly. The New L’manburg flags shifted and billowed softly in the wind, casting their own soft breezes in his direction and adding to the natural din of the place. On his way, he passed by the balloon stand and passed under the lanterns, he felt his face fall slightly and his boots stop in front of the stand. He tilted his head to look up at the lanterns, still softly glowing even in the light of the sunset, and the balloons, gently drifting back and forth in the wind. He was… very proud of his sons for helping to rebuild New L’manburg. He continued on. 

Still walking at his leisurely pace, he approached his house nestled by the edge of the city. He took a second to regard the build, still fairly proud of it’s make, before leaning down to unlock the door. The door opened with a click and before Phil could continue his chill contemplation of all the architecture he came across, he did a double-take and drew his sword.

Sitting cross-legged on a chest and fiddling with what looked like the gears of a clock, was Dream. In the well-lit atmosphere of Phil’s house he didn’t look especially intimidating, but seeing him there was a big enough surprise for Phil to decide he was naming the next grey hair he got after Dream, the first one in a while that wasn’t named after Tommy. 

Dream’s head shot up at the metallic sound that came from Phil unsheathing his sword, and he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Hey! Woah there! We’re cool here!” Dream assured, holding up his hands and slowly putting the open-faced clock in some hidden pocket. Phil paused for a second and tentatively sheathed his sword, slowly making his way inside his house and circling to the opposite side of the room from Dream. Dream watched him like a wolf watching a deer or… was it the other way around? Dream looked… weirdly sheepish? His shoulders hunched up in a defensive stance and his posture looked far more formal than Phil was typically used to seeing from him. Phil furrowed his brow and crossed his arms.

“Yeah. alright. We’re cool,” he said, and carefully noted how Dream physically relaxed, “So Dream, what are you doing in my house?” he asked. Phil had never seen Dream look embarrassed, and to be honest it was difficult to tell how he was feeling at all what with the green bandages wrapping around his face, but he swore in that moment that if Dream could blush he would’ve. Dream avoided looking at Phil’s face and started worrying his hands.

“Well I uh, I figured you’d be here and… Y’know thinking about it, it was probably kinda weird to break into your house,” he said, still worrying his hands and coming strangely close to a stammer. Phil furrowed his brow and tilted his head. Why on earth was he so timid? 

He took a quick look around the room to figure out where Dream had entered, the window was open just a sliver, and responded, “Yeah, little bit weird.” Dream almost seemed to shrink back but it was nearly imperceptible. Phil continued, “So, Dream, what are you doing in my house?”. 

The silence that followed lasted just a second longer than wasn’t awkward before Dream answered, “Well… did you hear I’m getting married to Fundy?” Phil’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, he had not heard about that but gestured for Dream to go on. Dream continued in a rambling tone of voice, “We know it’s like… well we don’t want to be all traditional and formal about it or whatever, but I thought, and Fundy agreed, that it would be a show of good faith to ask his parents for their blessings and I already went to Tubbo because he’s like sorta adopted him? And I skipped Eret because I don’t think that adoption went through or whatever, and I can’t talk to Sally because she’s a fish right? Or a shapshifter? Still confused on that one. And I told Fundy I was just going to talk to you and Tubbo and ask but I’m probably also going to just stop by Ghostbur’s place y’know see if he’s there and-” Phil raised his hand to interrupt him and Dream shut right up. Phil couldn’t help but smile, and not only at this newfound dad power he had over Dream.

“So you want my blessing as Fundy’s granddad?” he asked. Dream took a second to shake himself and slowly nodded. Phil smiled and walked over to Dream, still standing over him, and put his hand on his shoulder, “Well then, you’ve got it. I give you my blessing.” Dream immediately shed all the nervous energy he’d been exuding before and visibly perked up; for a second Phil could swear he saw Dream's eyes glow a brighter white through the bandages. Phil took his hand off Dream’s shoulder and stepped back as Dream stood up, seeming almost giddy.

“Cool,” he said, not quite effectively masking his excitement, “We really really appreciate it, thanks.” Phil stifled a fond laugh and although he was technically shorter than Dream, he felt much taller in that moment. Dream made his way to leave, this time going for the front door instead of a window when a thought crossed Phil’s mind that caused him to falter.

“So Dream,” he started, and Dream stopped in his tracks to look over his shoulder. Phil continued, “Now that you and my grandson are going to get married, I do want to know something. What’s the deal with you and George? I’ve heard you two are like, married or something.” Dream visibly stiffened and turned around to fully face Phil again, looking once more like a deer caught by a wolf.

“We… are very good friends,” he said finally. Phil crossed his arms.

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So you’re not going to pass George any sweet bouquets of flowers anymore?” Dream almost seemed to wince.

“Well-”

“Are you going to break my grandson’s heart?” Phil asked. The air of the room had become increasingly tense through the end of the interaction, and Dream looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but there. After an unbearable five seconds of just the sound of the wind blowing through the L’manburg flags outside, Dream spoke,

“I… really do care about Fundy,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked, I need you to promise you won’t,” Phil replied. Dream steadied himself and let out a breath.

“... I will not break your grandson’s heart,” he said finally. For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke, until Phil, very slowly, nodded. Dream let out a breath and relaxed his shoulders. “... I’m going to go now. Thanks again.” Phil let him go and gave him a short wave on his way out, shutting the door behind him. Phil took a deep breath and went up to his room to process things. 

Fundy wasn’t dumb, he thought. Fundy was a smart kid, dangerously creative, a scammer, and definitely clever enough to know if he was being played here. He was maybe more loyal than strictly healthy, and a tad too eager for acceptance, but he still knew his stuff. Even then, Phil thought, Fundy could take care of himself. Even if Fundy was getting led on without his knowledge, he didn’t need Phil to protect him. He was an adult and a capable one at that. And if Fundy wasn’t getting played? Well, Phil was happy for them, Dream did seem to care about Fundy and it was difficult to lie about that sort of thing. Phil sighed and laid back on his bed. He could finish the road work tomorrow, it was getting into the evening anyway.

As Phil cozied up in his bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling with the light of the rising moon coming in from the window, he was struck with one final thought. 

Dream hadn’t actually promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that got angstier than expected! 
> 
> Also I've never posted fanfic before but I'm having a delightful time, should I work on a captain pufffy x nikki thing next? I wanna try a slow burn flower shop type thing lol.


	3. Wilbur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this Very quickly, never expect this publication speed from me again. 
> 
> I Wanted to aim for a chapter a day but I finished this one super fast and I wanted to get it out lol.
> 
> Also I wanted to warn that while this fic Is hurt comfort, it is more hurt than it is comfort and the comfort is mostly unrelated to the parts that are hurt. The angst got a,,,,, bit out of hand on me ngl
> 
> Also I wanted to add some Ghostbur specific triggers in the notes, stay safe and all.
> 
> \- rapid memory loss  
> \- broken glass  
> \- something that sounds like it might be a panic attack but like in the way that ghosts do
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! I'll probably finish the last part tomorrow!

Wilbur woke up and immediately processed the fact that he was so deeply, deeply cold. 

As usual, the deep deep chill that had settled into his body and nonexistent bones since his death just wouldn’t go away. No matter how closely he got to a fire and no matter how closely he hugged his yellow sweater to his body, he was always, always, cold. 

Wilbur moved to the side, reaching out for the raggedy blankets he kept on his bed in the sewers and… tripped over a stone. He couldn’t sleep, whoops, he’d nearly forgotten that. He did have a bed in the sewers but he didn’t sleep in it he just… sat on it sometimes and got lost in thought. He wasn’t lying down he was… standing up in front of his alchemy stands. Okay then. He must’ve just… zoned out a bit, one of those pesky memory lapses. What… what had he been doing? He frowned and looked down at the potions bubbling in the stands, and down at his hands which were holding a spotted mushroom and a vial of powder respectively. He didn’t know whether he’d used them on the potion yet but the liquid looked some kind of murky and he didn’t want to ruin the equation… he should just restart.

His frown deepened as he lifted the bubbling vile off of its wire stand, setting aside the ingredients and pouring what he’d made and forgotten into a waterway beside him. A distinctly sharp feeling of bitterness spread through him and he glared at the empty bottle. What was he even making? What was even the point of making potions? He could just lay face first in the sewers for eternity and nothing good or bad would come of it because he was dead and everyone hated alive Will anyway and he… no. There was no time to feel those icky emotions. Wilbur’s face smoothed out immediately, and he tried on a soft, calm smile before setting the now empty bottle back onto its stand. No reason to think those things, he was going to make… something! Something important and fun he reckoned!

Wilbur took a deep breath into his empty lungs, feeling notably unrefreshed by doing so seeing as he couldn’t really breathe air, and set aside the ingredients in his hand to start on a new, different potion. He’d make… a fire resistance potion! He was still just a tad chilly and hadn’t tried standing in lava yet so… it would be a fun activity to try! Maybe he’d finally get warm-… and maybe he’d get a fun new party trick to show his son! His lovely boy! His little champion! He puttered around his cupboards, a smile still stuck to his face, and grabbed the nether wart and the magma cream. He was running out of the latter so he’d have to ask someone to fetch him more, an excellent chance for a future conversation!

Humming a tune he couldn’t quite remember to himself, Wilbur started spinning around his cramped little home, maintaining his soft smile all the while. He stopped near a shelf to pick up a stirring stick and spun around to break up the nether wart, he grabbed a wooden spoon off a nearby shelf and twirled in the other direction to spoon the magma cream into the solution, he whirled around again and stopped. 

He closed his eyes in surprise and when he opened them again, he looked down to see that he’d crashed into the alchemy stands, and was pressing his semi incorporeal hands into the shattered glass to steady himself. He looked down at his hands and noticed they were shaking… what had surprised him in the first place? Why did he fall? Why was he… was he crying? No, surely not. He felt his face dry up instantly. But what had… he looked up.

Standing in front of him was… a man. This was… Dream? Yes, this was Dream, that was his name. The… man… Dream! Yes, this was Dream; had his gloved hands held out to… steady him… oh yes! He had fallen on the table! Of course he’d try to help steady him! Dream looked vaguely alarmed, even with the bandages and hood obscuring his face. His white eyes that peeked from the blackness between the gap in his bandages, had widened in concern but aside from that and the outstretched hands, he maintained the tall and superior looking stance that Will… remembered of him.

Did he like Dream? He looked at the man’s bandaged face and felt… strangely neutral. He didn’t like Dream, right? He was the tyrannical ruler in the song? He… He’d killed Tommy once, with an arrow. Maybe he’d misremembered? Tommy was an annoying child, it was probably just some silly fight. Dream hurt L’manburg… yes, that was correct. He’d hurt it, he was the reason Eret betrayed them, why they didn’t like Eret. Oh wait, did they still hate Eret? He really was not entirely sure… Wait, pause, back to Dream. Okay so he didn’t like Dream, but acting like a negative nancy about it probably wouldn’t get him anywhere and it’s not like Dream could blow up a country again! Wait, hadn’t… it wasn’t Dream who did that part… okay forget that part. He had a guest!

Wilbur stood up straight, shook the shards of glass from his hands, and gave his new visitor… Dream(!) a polite smile.

“Hello!” he rasped, and Dream relaxed and put his hands down, “You’re Dream, right? I’m sorry I do remember you but it’s all a bit fuzzy.” Dream nodded very slowly and Wilbur grinned at him, turning around back to his work table to clean up the glass. “Great! Now uh, do you want a drink? I have,” he looked over his shoulder at his various stocked shelves, “sewer water and potions!” Dream tilted his head and regarded him strangely.

“... no, I’m good. Thanks though,” Dream responded. Wilbur nodded and continued pushing the shards into a little pile, looking over his shoulder at his guest.

“Alright then! I do have a question though, why are you in my sewer?” he asked, tilting his head and turning around to fully face Dream again, this time cupping in his hands the smile pile of glass shards. Dream seemed to falter, looking around the sewer and avoiding meeting Will’s eyes. 

Finally, Dream coughed into his hand and responded, “You… you know who I am right?” Wilbur thought back on his earlier train of thought and grinned.

“Oh yes of course! I mean it’s a little fuzzy and I’m pretty sure I hate you but I’m not quite sure… either way it doesn’t matter much! anyway! What was I asking… oh yes! Why are you in my sewer?” he repeated. Dream took another long pause, weighing his words and carefully considering Wilbur. Wilbur’s smile didn’t fade and after a moment he realized he should probably blink, just to maintain appearance y’know.

Dream cleared his throat and answered, “Well… I’ve come to ask you a question?” he said hesitantly. Wilbur’s brow furrowed though his smile remained in place as he made his way over to the waterway to dump the glass.

“Well green boy!” he croaked out, “What did you come to ask?” Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure what constituted an awkward pause anymore, but he was pretty sure this counted. Dream was being incredibly hesitant and seemed to be arranging himself close to the door in a way that would allow him to leave as fast as possible. Wilbur held back a frown as the silence stretched, picking up another glass bottle to replace the old one.

Finally, Dream responded, “Me and Fundy are getting married,” Wilbur felt his stomach drop but he maintained his smile, “And it’s not formal or traditional but I wanted to ask for his guardian’s blessing anyway as a sign of goodwill.” Wilbur did not feel the glass bottle slip from his hands and shatter, he did hear it though, as well as the surprised sound from Dream as the pieces scattered in every direction. As quickly as he noticed the glass falling he was already going over to the cupboard in the corner, making vague noises of fussing as he fumbled around for a broom.

“Oh goodness, oh god,” he fretted, grabbing the broom out of the closet and listening to Dream carefully step around the glass behind him, “I am so sorry, I’m just a bit clumsy nowadays you know with the ghost hands and all, oh goodness.” Dream nodded and moved aside for Wilbur to sweep the shards into the waterway. 

“Oh fuck uh, it’s okay don’t worry about it dude, you need help?” Wilbur shook his head and continued to sweep the shards down into the water below, listening to the sound of the glass echoing against the rock walls. Once the floor was all cleaned up, Wilbur silently went back to store away the broom. Dream cleared his throat to speak, “So… what’s your answer?” Wilbur tuned him out, fussing with the placement of the broom and all the stuff around it, reorganizing and rearranging all the items. Dream continued, “It… it’s fine if you don’t want to give your blessing,” he paused, “we’re getting married whether you give it or not.” Wilbur dropped the broom.

“Oh gosh oh goodness,” he fretted, going to pick up the broom and all but completely ignoring Dream. “I am so sorry I’m just being rather clumsy today,” he chuckled weakly, voice growing smaller and smaller as he continued. 

Dream shuffled around and continued, “Listen I’d honestly prefer if you said something negative instead of ignoring me like, please Wil-”  
“It’s Ghostbur, I’m not alive Wilbur,” interrupted Wilbur, his voice coming out so soft Dream was sure he hadn’t heard it. Dream nodded but didn’t respond and Wilbur just froze in place, wishing so badly he could shrink in on himself or grab an invisibility potion or just, anything. It was a real dick move for the universe to let him become a ghost but not give him the ability to turn invisible at will. Wilbur just stood there stock still, breathing a tad ragged and still not looking Dream in the eye. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at Dream again. “He… Fundy. He’s so young… He’s just fourteen, in fox… shapeshifter… in his own years… he’s just a boy… “ he rasped out, still hunched over a bit and avoiding looking Dream directly in the eye. Dream deflated slightly.

“ … Fundy is a grown adult. He ages weird but, he's grown, and we’re getting married,” Dream responded. Wilbur felt himself shrink back again. That was… probably true. He wasn’t exactly clued into the timeline of his own life so… Fundy was definitely older than he remembered.

“ … You’re a bad person. We don’t like you, right?” Dream closed his eyes and thought about that for a moment.

“That’s… that’s probably true yeah,” Dream admitted. Wilbur looked down and nodded solemnly. “Fundy likes me though.” Wilbur didn’t move, just gently swaying on his feet and feeling himself gently floating just a centimeter off the ground. He pulled his arms close to himself, tugging his sweater closer just to feel even the slightest bit of warmth.

“ … He didn’t tell me about this,” Wilbur choked out, “Dream? Why… why didn’t he tell me about this?” Dream held his breath and fixed his gaze anywhere but on Wilbur. 

“We… he told me that he hadn’t told you,” Wilbur felt his heartbreak, “because well, he figured you’d probably forget… he was going to invite you though and uh… asking for your blessing was my idea. I also went to Tubbo and Phil.” That last part confused Wilbur a bit, but he didn’t really mind it. These past few weeks he felt empty constantly, but this was a new level even for him. Slowly, he straightened his posture, uncrossed his arms to let them fall at his side, and put on the faintest hint of a smile.

“That… Yes, that does make sense… Alright then,” he up looked directly at Dream, who was also no longer averting his gaze, “I have no objections. You can marry my… adult son.” he finished, voice still hoarse and small, but smiling this time. Dream nodded slowly and began to step back towards the door.

“Thanks… we both really really appreciate it and-” Dream turned around as he stood in the doorframe to face Wilbur again, “-the wedding is next week. I can… I can come by again to remind you.” Wilbur smiled softly.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Dream nodded and moved to close the door. “Oh and Dream?” Wilbur interrupted. Dream turned back around and nodded. “Take good care of him for me?” Wilbur rasped, voice cracking. Dream paused, nodded, and closed the door behind him travelling back to the opening of the sewer and heading back to his base.   
As he walked back, ducking in shadows and navigating the streets of L’manburg and the greater SMP, Dream would pause and consider the interaction carefully. It had gone… not quite as well as he was hoping but it hadn’t been terrible. Fundy had been understandably reluctant to talk about his father and Dream figured he finally understood why. In all of their talks and all of their arguments, Fundy actively avoided any topic that would involve his dad. He steered clear of the topic entirely and even in their most vulnerable moments, never so much as mentioned him.   
Dream caught sight of a passerby in the forest and quietly melded with the shadows nearby, carefully avoiding leaving a trail. Once they’d passed, he continued on his trek. 

In the chill of the night air and in the light of the moon, Dream avoided thinking about the interaction entirely. He’d promised Fundy he wouldn’t go looking for Wilbur and he’d broken that promise so in his mind he carefully formulated an adequate series of events, exaggerating his interaction with Phil to be longer and increasing the length of his search for both Tubbo and Phil. In the back of his mind, however there was one small detail that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Wilbur hadn’t actually given his blessing. 

Back in the sewer, Wilbur still hadn’t quite moved. He may have been semi incorporeal, and he may have been floating, but he was frozen to the spot. 

His smile hadn’t wavered, his stance hadn’t changed, and he was still staring at the door.

Well… no time to think sad thoughts, he still hadn’t finished that potion of... Something! Yes, that potion of something!

Barely looking where he was going, Wilbur floated haphazardly around the room, grabbing at ingredients that caught his eye and tossing them onto his counter. He hummed an out of tune version of his song from earlier, and as he cut up the nether wart with a nearby blade, he nearly nicked himself on its edge. No matter though! He tossed in a pinch of blaze powder, a slice of a golden carrot, and a fermented spider’s eye. At the end of his short dance, he looked down to see that he’d made… an invisibility potion! What… what fun!

He reached down and downed the potion in one gulp, the cool purple liquid sliding down his throat. He looked down to see nothing but the bottle he was holding floating in the air. He grinned to himself, a private smile that no one could see even if they were in his presence. 

He floated around his abode, knocking into walls and chuckling as he bounced off them, humming to himself. Once he’d drifted into the small space he called his bedroom, he floated down, grabbed the rags he called blankets and pulled them around him. He was so, so cold. His smile didn’t slip as he mentally recounted the events of the day.

He had woken up… twice! Oh no but wait he couldn’t sleep. Then well… he figured he hadn’t woken up at all! He remembered leaving the sewer briefly and talking to… someone! Someone fun he reckoned! He was sure that had probably happened today, maybe. Then he’d been at his house making a potion and!... well he wasn’t quite sure what happened next really. 

Well, if he’d forgotten it, then it probably wasn’t worth remembering anyway!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee Beanie who let you have so many ellipses?
> 
> am I sorry for the angst? a little bit <3


	4. Fundy & Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write some Fundywastaken that Isn't so bittersweet some time but for now!! I am fairly proud of this!! hope y'all like it!!

Fundy looked at the ticking clock on the wall of Dream’s base and sighed. He was probably late because he was going to talk to Wilbur.

He’d told him not to but had under no circumstances expected him to follow through on that promise. They were both liars at their very core, and they were both very very good at it. In his mind he figured if the meeting went well, Dream would mention it as a fun little detail to try and cheer him up about his dad feelings, if it went neutral, he’d ask if he was sure he didn’t want him to talk to Wilbur, if it went badly, he wouldn’t mention it at all. Eh, whatever. No need to dwell, he had a wedding to keep planning for!

Fundy sat at an oaken desk in the corner of Dream’s “only true base” (yeah sure), with a small stack of paper invitations laid out in front of him. The flickering light of a lantern that hung from above illuminated the still wet ink as he scrawled out name after name onto the parchment. The base was underground and not anywhere near a cave, so the only sound in the area was the crackling of the fireplace in the corner, the soft burning of the lantern above, the scratching sound of pen against paper, and Fundy’s own breathing. This was the “domestic” part of Dream’s base, so it looked and felt far more homey than the rows of resource filled chests and armor stands that lined the rest of it. 

Working at a leisurely speed, he slowly scrawled out each name on the list outlined beside him and paired them with an envelope for sealing. As he came across Eret’s name, he frowned and paused the rhythm he’d gotten into. Well…they were still a good friend, and it wasn’t like they’d said they didn’t want to adopt him, they just hadn’t shown up…

Fundy scrawled down Eret’s name and moved on. 

After another minute of the same paced writing, he got to George’s name. Hm, okay. He couldn’t just… cross it off. He and George didn’t hold any grudges against each other so it would be very weird for him to just, not invite him at all. He wasn’t jealous, no of course not. Dream wasn’t cheating and would not cheat. There were a lot of unsaid things in their relationship but he was pretty sure that “I also have feelings for George” wasn’t one of them!

Fundy scrawled George’s name down… and moved the letter to the edge of the desk. If it fell off and got lost in the base? Well, that wasn’t his fault.

Wilbur’s name was next on the list… okay then. Fundy knew that he was under no obligation to invite him. He shouldn’t. He’d been a horrible father in his last few years and now that he was a ghost he probably wouldn’t even remember the union anyway. Fundy absently rubbed at the fur under his eyes. 

He wrote Willbur’s name down and put it in the priority pile. 

He went on like that in silence for another 30 minutes, before he heard the telltale sign of heavy boots coming down through the hallways of the base. Fundy smiled to himself and waited for the familiar sound of his voice. The steps got closer and the sound of rustling fabric behind him widened his smile. Suddenly, he felt hands on his shoulders and felt Dream give him a quick kiss on his temple and he couldn’t hold back the fond chuckle. He pushed his chair back from the desk and turned around to face his fiance.

Dream without his bandages was an interesting sight indeed, but one he’d gotten used to since they’d gotten close. His skin was a muted sage colour, but seemed to glow a soft emerald under most lights, which made for terrible stealth without the coverings. His square face was littered with desaturated green scars that stretched even below the neckline of his traveling outfit. His off white hair was tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck with a green ribbon that Fundy had gifted him. Most importantly, his white eyes were crinkled at the edges, as his face pulled into a smile. 

“Well hello there,” Fundy smiled, “What have you been up to today?” Dream smiled and circled around fundy to sit on the available desk in front of him. 

“Hm, nothing much. Got blessings from your uncle and grandad but other than that? No big deal,” he teased. Dream put his hand on Fundy’s shoulder and Fundy leaned into it smiling. In the back of his head, he noted that Wilbur hadn’t been mentioned yet, guess the interaction went badly. “Sorry I took so long getting home, Phil took forever to find,” he lied. Fundy nodded and gave a quick shrug, prompting Dream to retrieve the hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Phil’s an enigma, he’s got a base but it isn’t common server knowledge yet, unlike your base,” he joked. Dream chuckled softly and got up to go lay on their shared bed, beckoning Fundy to join him. Fundy stood up, stretched his limbs after hours of sitting, and cuddled up next to his fiance who immediately started to run his hands through the fur behind Fundy’s ear. 

“Yeah, I asked Tubbo where it was and he wasn’t even sure. Seems like a real incompetent president if you ask me,” he teased. Fundy huffed and turned around to glare playfully at him, prompting Dream to deliver him a quick peck on his nose. “Maybe you should join me or something. We’d make a good teeam~” Fundy gave him a soft smile and shook his head. Dream made a pouty face in turn.

“You know I can’t,” Fundy assured, and Dream’s pout deepened. Fundy chuckled and turned to lay on his back. “Especially not after you ditched my invitation to help me with signing the actual invitations.” Dream scoffed indignantly beside him and propped his head up on his palms to better look at Fundy who’s fond expression had morphed into a smirk.

“Oh come on! I had things to do!” he cried, poking the side of Fundy’s face and pulling back when Fundy bit at his fingers. 

“Oh gosh yeah, I completely forgot. You were busy getting an entirely symbolic form of validation out of two men, one of whom isn’t even technically a father figure, and this was so important to you that you told me the day before I told you I’d be signing invitations today.” Dream sputtered, falling back to laying on his side and turning to face away from Fundy. 

“I’m ignoring you now. I’m cancelling this wedding,” Dream lamented sarcastically. Fundy chuckled and turned towards Dream, pushing himself a bit closer and draping his arm over the other man’s shoulder. 

“Alright then.” He kissed the other man’s forehead before turning around, getting up to change into houseware, and turning the light off.

The two talked a bit more before actually going to sleep in each other’s arms. Dream talked about the day’s events, completely side-stepping any involvement with Wilbur. Fundy talked and joked about the monotony of signing letters all day, but did not bring up any of the internal conflict surrounding the letters for George, Eret, and Wilbur. As the two cozied into the blankets and Fundy began to drift off, the two were left with the exact same thought. 

They both loved each other so very much, and they were both people with a history of lying.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer gamers! I don't do rpf bc it makes me extra uncomfy, this is Exclusively about the Characters of the people in the SMP.
> 
> I Do Not ship fundy and dream the People, same with george and dream. They're friends your honor.


End file.
